


Love Me Lights Out

by QuickLikeLight



Series: An Hour and Under [8]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Human, Carnival, Crushes, Friends to Lovers, M/M, Pre-Bite, Pre-Canon, tunnel of love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-22
Updated: 2016-07-22
Packaged: 2018-07-25 20:38:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,077
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7546737
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/QuickLikeLight/pseuds/QuickLikeLight
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Halfway through the Tunnel of Love, Scott realizes he’s doomed.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Love Me Lights Out

**Author's Note:**

  * For [bleep0bleep](https://archiveofourown.org/users/bleep0bleep/gifts).



> Carrie commissioned me to do some fluffy carnival fic so I went with either Human AU or pre-bite Skittles (You can choose whichever you like most). Carrie, thank you for commissioning this piece, and I hope you enjoy!

“Did you get the cotton candy?” Scott asks, even though he can plainly see that Stiles has cotton candy in hand. He does that sometimes when he’s nervous - asks questions he knows the answers to just to hear Stiles say _yes_.

“No,” Stiles says, passing him a paper cone filled with pink sugar fluff. He takes a bite, the spun sugar melting on his tongue in a bright sweet burst. “This is a delicious figment of your imagination. Did you get tickets?”

Scott shows him the neat stack of tickets before shoving it in his back pocket and nodding toward the rides. The carnival only comes to town once a year, and last year Scott was too sick to attend, seasonal allergies making his asthma flare up like crazy. This year he’s ready to make up for it.

“What do you want to ride first?”

Stiles looks at him appraisingly, as if wondering how Scott will hold up on the rides, and it’s not particularly nice but it _is_ fair. That doesn’t keep Scott from flushing uncomfortably under his gaze, kicking the dirt until Stiles says, “Let’s do the Ferris Wheel.”

It’s not that Scott had any big plans for today, really. It isn’t as if he’s been day dreaming of this day for weeks, of the day he’d finally look at Stiles and say something about the tension that’s ratcheted up between them in the last few months. It’s just that maybe he’s had a couple of vague thoughts about how the day would play out, so it feels natural to say, “Okay - how about you pick one, then I pick one. If you want the Ferris Wheel, then I want to ride the Rocket Coaster.”

Stiles’ eyebrows go up like he’s not sure that’s a good idea, but he doesn’t argue - just takes Scott’s hand in his and tugs him toward the rides. Scott can’t ignore the warmth of Stiles’ hand, the way his fingers intertwine with Scott’s own like he’s afraid they’ll get separated in the crowd. _Bros don’t hold hands like this, do they?_ Scott wonders, but doesn’t ask - it doesn’t feel like the right moment, just like every moment he’s considered in the months leading up to today. He’s not worried though. He knows his moment will come.

They ride the Ferris Wheel, the Rocket Coaster, the Zipper, the parachutes, the swings, and the swirling teacups all one right after another, taking advantage of the late afternoon heat shortening all the lines. Scott’s sweaty and a little tired and - well, vaguely nauseous, but the whole day has been so much fun he can’t help the smile on his face when they crash back to the ground, dizzy and holding each other’s arms as Stiles crows about the ride.

“Did you see that kid puke?” he asks, laughing - as if Scott could have missed it. “Dude, so awesome. The teacups are so underrated.”

“What do you want to do next?” Scott asks, though his stomach gurgles uncomfortably right after, signaling they should probably stop. Stiles looks around, game for whatever is left, but Scott already knows - they’ve ridden every ride on the fairground except for one.

He waits, breath caught in his chest, watching as Stiles shrugs nonchalantly and says, “You got enough tickets for the Tunnel of Love?”

Boy, does he.

 

Halfway through the Tunnel of Love, Scott realizes he’s doomed.

They’re riding in the very back boat of the little train, squeezed together because Stiles’ legs are already a bit too long to sit comfortably. They watch in silence as they pass little exhibits of animatronic puppetry acting out scenes of domestic bliss, far flung romantic adventures, and everything in between. It’s cheesy - it’s cheesier than the nachos Scott ate for lunch, even. But still, he likes it; likes the way the soft music rises when they turn another corner, likes the soft swish of the water against the boat, likes the way Stiles’ thigh is pressed against his with no room between.

Liking the ride doesn’t do anything about the anxiety building in his stomach, though. Scott can feel his palms sweating, his heart pounding as they float through the air-conditioned darkness of the ride. He keeps expecting Stiles to say something that will give him some direction, but Stiles is unnaturally quiet next to him, and almost completely still.

 _Oh no_ , he panics. _He’s figured it out - he knows, and he’s grossed out, or he thinks I’m weird, or he -_

The boat shudders to a halt with a groan, and Stiles squawks as it throws them both forward a little, dislodging them from the barely comfortable positions they’d contorted themselves into.  They wait for a few long moments in the dark before a voice comes over the loudspeaker.

“Everyone please stay calm.”

“Oh great,” Stiles says, not bothering to be quiet. “Dad told me a carnival ride would kill me but I really didn’t think it was going to be this one.”

“He said that?” Scott asks, wide-eyed. His mom trusts him not to ride anything too dangerous - a thought that pricks his conscience a little when he thinks about the Rocket Coaster.

“Someone’s going to have to tell him I died on the Tunnel of Love and I didn’t even get a kiss out of it,” Stiles laments, and it’s not funny, but it really is, and Scott can’t help but laugh. That makes Stiles laugh, and then Stiles’ hand is on his back, easy but with that edge of tension that’s been there since Spring Break, and Scott recognizes his moment when he feels it thrumming through his veins, hears it in Stiles’ laugh, can still taste it in cotton candy and peanuts and too much soda for one afternoon. He leans forward and brushes his lips against Stiles’ so softly it could only be a kiss.

The world around them freezes for a long moment as Scott pulls back and waits, heart thudding and breath held - until Stiles pulls him back in with the hand on his back and kisses him again, harder and clumsier this time, but just as sweet.

“I was joking about the dying thing,” Stiles says quietly when they break apart. “But if this is heaven, sign me up.”

Scott laughs again, feeling lighter than he has in months. “That was terrible.”

“So’s this ride,” Stiles laughs, and kisses him again. Neither of them notice when the boats shudder back to life.

 

**Author's Note:**

> Your feedback is valuable to all fic writers, and I'm no exception. If you enjoyed this story, please let me know.
> 
> Come find me on [tumblr](http://quicklikelight.tumblr.com).


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